Like To Live Dangerously

[Mythos]

Other than [member="Darth Erebos"] Mythos had never once had another being he could call brother and friend. The king that spoke before him in the manner that he did also reminded him of the King of Shawken... they were all Kings, that just hit him square. Kay being off world on buissness at the moment did not shake Mythos' thought that at any moment she would pass through those doors and into this bar, it was quite the posibility and she had done more impressive things before. Remarkable was an understatement when it came to the Queen of Commenor. Mythos' smile widened when the King finally began to drink, he responded by placing another nug of Bota into his pipe and the ember that already had the pipe blazing kept the herb smoking. The thought hit Mythos now, he had to share...

He cleaned his pipe mouth with his rough leather and then with a clean silk napkin an placed it between them before taking one large smoke. As he spoke smoke puffed out his lips. Hre began to remove his cloak and mouth guard, not worrying about his identity being discovered, after all...

There were thousands of Mythos clones in the galaxy thanks to the one sith.

Before he could make his offer The King spoke to him something that tangled his heartstrings... or what was left of them. Something crossed the kings face before that however, Mythos was a veteran of a hundred battles and nintey nine of them were along side other force users... he knew how to read their facial expressions when they sensed something was amiss. He narrowed his eyes, shooting the yellow blaze into him just as he would a battle scout in the middle of an infiltration mission.

He let it go for now. When he spoke of his fondness for the queen Mythos half smiled in a way that said 'It's not what you think' but somehow he knew the king knew that. Then the king moved on to a more serious matter and his smile faded gradually. He nodded and glanced into his eyes every so often. He let him speak his mind before snapping his fingers to the bartender and pointing to his drink... yeah he was going to need another one of those.

He sighed before answering but when he did so his honesty could be seen in the yellow tint of his eyes. "When I was younger Kay in her own way made me better, her pursuit of the good of others and the understanding of good and justice shaped the way i came to be..." He half smiled, again releiving those incredibly painful memories that fueled an intense hatred for Luke Skywalkers creation and the death of his people. "Hospitals, the erradication of all disease, an honest love for people... It made sense" The words were of goodness and truth but the pain that flashed in his eyes was almost physical and material to touch.

"That's what i want to serve for until i am ready to execute my mission" His eyes looked into his now with passive fury, his golden long hair beat as a slight breeze came through the door. "I think you can guess what that mission is, when the time comes for me to embark on it Commenor will not be hurt." He shrugged, throwing a smile at his king that was so sly it bordered on overconfident. "I have no desire for public appearances... after all" he said, pulling his pipe into his hands and gesturing for his king to take it. "I'm just a clone".

Now he spoke through the force, using telepathy to speak to him as the crowd in the bar became larger. "It's called Bota, My research shows it was used by jedi in the galactic cicial war to enhance their connection to the force and meditate better."

No sooner had those words left his mouth when Mr. Sikare came stumbling about being proped up by another man who seemed to be helping him. He smiled and chuckled under his breath, he also had a weak liver befire he went to midvinter... it changed after he drank the glorious mead. "Nothing important Mr. Sikare. Just old men reminiscing of the old glory days" The he introduced his friend and Mythos gave him a sharp eye but a welcoming and freidnly demeanor. "A pleasure, Names' Durin. I'm a clone from Midvinter, this is my King who needs no introduction i am sure." His tone was absolutley uncharacteristic from what Veiere had just been hearing this whole time, if Veiere did not know Mythos' ability to become someone else... he did now. Courtesy of Master Ophidia.

Then... it happened.

Through the two men he was talking to, entering the bar was [member="Mara Rockwell"] yet Mythos for a second thougt it was @Chaf'anta'natrano and his heart stopped. Time stoped. His eyes faded from his sith yellow to a calm yellow hue as his eyebrow raised. No, it wasnt her but when she walked in she owned his eyes. She was the best thing his eyes had rested on since he came back from the dead and even before for a long time... He lost his train of thought and might have looked a little foolish, he hoped she did not notice him stare like a dumbfounded kid who saw a Diathim. Snapping back to his new companion he asked [member="Jorus Merrill"] a simple question. "Do you want a drink mate?" He then heard the lady ask for a light peach ale and he knew this was his shot. Not missing a beat Mythos made his move. "The Ale is on me Barkeep" He said, confidence and the Midvinter accent strong in his voice as he glanced over and gave her a smile.

 

[WolfMortum]

There were a number of moments within this discussion that made Veiere wan't to quirk a brow in uncertainty, yet he refrained from doing so, allowing [member="Mythos"] to answer him in a manner of varying emotional expressions, his body language emphasizing the mans ability to go from hot to cold and back within mere instances, his thoughts like a fuel to the fire that burned the crimson glow of his eyes unlike that of what the Jedi Order expected from their people. Where Mythos was loosely restrained, Veiere on the other hand was the figure of placid intrigue and otherwise calm on the exterior, his sentience as emotional as the next person yet trained to keep himself in check, he tilted his head in a nod of indifference to the former King of Atrisia, lifting a hand in declining gesture towards the pipe and the herb that Mythos was offering to him.

"Thank you but I'm quite fine would a nice red" he lifted his glass in acknowledging toast, a gesture of casual appreciation before further questioning the herbs origins; "Many people have used many substances for a number of reasons, not all of them still considered legal in this day and age...-Frankly, I've never heard of Bota yet the use of such things isn't something I approve of, if I'm to be honest with you". Truthfully, though none of them were yet aware of what was to happen in the weeks to come surrounding the coming attack upon Kwenn Station, the fact remained that were this drug to be illegal on Commenor, it might have kept Mythos from committing murder further down the line. It was most unfortunate that Veiere frankly didn't know what Commenor's stance was on this specific clove. "Each to their own of course, I'd however ask you to refrain from taking it near the Palace should you visit my Wife...".

As for Mythos' mission, he was right in the fact that assumptions weren't hard to come by considering the refugee's that had fled Atrisia to the care of the Dominion of Ession had too yearned for war and revenge, retribution for the world that they had lost and the driving incentive to why Veiere had chosen to step down as Archlord and Regent King in the North, fearing for the fate that they inevitably came into with their yearning for violence tempered by the past atrocities several within the room shared in experience.

The their fortunate distraction, [member="Darben Skirae"] however approached upon the arm of another man whom seemed far more the pillar of sobriety than Veiere's associate in Government. "Darben, I had no idea you were such a light weight" he mused to the Minister of Trade for the Systems Alliance. To Darben's friend, Veiere offered an apologetic smile, soon followed by a roll of his eyes at the expense of Mythos' introduction of Veiere's position over Commenor; "Mythos, please..." Veiere spoke in a half hearted scowl, soon turning back to that of [member="Jorus Merrill"] and extending a hand in greeting. "I do apologize for the Company that I keep..." He said with forced amusement, hoping to mask the awkwardness that he felt over having his title thrown about like it made him something larger than life. He detested the thought of being put upon some pillar to be looked up at by others, it was the least humble thing one could hope for.

To his right at the bar counter, he glanced in the direction of [member="Simone"], among the other patrons whom seemed to be gradually filling up the establishment in the passing hours of the evening. Commenor was after all a place of leisure and trade, the night life something to desire and admire while too being something Veiere rarely experienced despite having such a love for his home-world.

 

[Mara Rockwell]

One of the guys from the party noticed her, like a fair amount of noticing. He was trying to be subtle, but it was hard not to notice that level of noticing when your being noticed a fairly large amount. It was just enough attention to make Mara a tad uncomfortable.

At least he didn't make eye contact. That'd be awkward, she thought to herself looking down at the drink. And at least the whole group didn't stare. That'd have made it super awkies. Some nice guy who, she guessed wasn't in their group brought a guy who was on the jelly-legs stage of drinking to their group. Mara made a note to be careful so she wouldn't end up like that too soon. She looked down at the fizzing light pink mix of her drink, furrowing her lips thought. The detail they put into some of these simulation programs was pretty near fantastic.

"The Ale is on me Barkeep"

"Uh," Mara's head popped up as the stranger's voice.

It was the guy who noticed her. Or at least the one she noticed noticing her. She grinned. At least he wasn't some yucky old fat guy. Well, he could be old, you never knew anymore with those weird hackers who were able to reset the look of their age of their avatars. She brushed some of the blue strands of her hair from her face. He looked about her age, maybe a few years older. It would have been a little odd if the guy who was just talking about being married had in the same breath offered to drink with her--she'd been there a few times.

"I was wondering when you'd make your move," she teased slightly before looking down at her watch, "25 seconds. I give it to you for efficiency and not 'f'ing a round."

She raised her glass, beaming at the rest of the party like the mildly-intoxicated young lady she was, "Thanks to you and your squad."

She took a sip of her fizzy drink. A side of her said to just guzzle as much of the free booze as she could--and the smarter side of Mara said a really smart lady wouldn't get totally slammed in public. Still... it was tasty. She took a second drink, swishing it in her mouth for a second like one of those core-world connoisseurs before swallowing it like a girl in a bar. She offered her hand, "I'm Mara. But you can call me Blue," she cocked her head to the side playfully, "Be honest, you thought I was a Chiss at first, didn't ya?"

[member="Veiere Arenais"] I [member="Mythos"] I [member="Simone"] I [member="Jorus Merrill"] I [member="Darben Skirae"]​

 

[Simone]

Simone watched, taking a sip of her drink, as the Last King of Atrisia finally removed his cloak and mask, still only had a view of the back of his head, at least until the aruzan woman waltzed in and she had to stifle a giggle a the way his eyes nearly popped out of his head to follow her movement. Whether his face was all over the galaxy or not, Simone had recorded enough of the conversation for someone to identify him as the real one. Memories could be copied, but it was rare that they were.

She spotted Jorus coming out of the gents, supporting the guy who'd been with the two kings earlier, wondering right into their midst. Perfect. Now she had a reason to get closer, a reason to be in their midst truly. She'd wait to be invited though. She felt the High King's gaze pass across her and did not flinch nor hide the fact that she was watching them. What reason would she have for doing that? Kings drew attention and curiosity, she was little more than a peasant bystander observing royalty from a distance.

[member="Mara Rockwell"] [member="Veiere Arenais"] [member="Mythos"] [member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Darben Skirae"]

 

[Darben Skirae]

Darben Skirae listened, or at least tried to listen, to [member="Mythos"] and [member="Veiere Arenais"]. He thought for a brief moment to his own old days, before Veiere made a comment about how lightweight Darben was this night. "Lightweight? I'll have you know...you kn...this is not how I am usually like, Mister Veiere...I can usually hold quite a bit." He turned his head a little to [member="Jorus Merrill"], and gave a thank you, "Thanks good man, again. Some people don't help like you do." Then he turned back to Veiere and Mythos. He was starting to think that it was about time to leave. And he didn't want to ask one of them to interrupt their own night just to get him home. Besides, when he got drunk, he got stubborn, and always felt it was his responsibility to get himself home.

He saw that Mythos was busy speaking with someone, a woman, so he knew that Mythos would be here for some more time. Veiere, he wasn't too sure. "Veiere, could you perhap help me to the front? I think I need to hail a cab to take me home." He leaned up and out of the chair, being careful not to trip this time.

[member="Simone"] [member="Mara Rockwell"]

 

[Mythos]

Mythos put his hands on his chest at the remark of [member="Veiere Arenais"] over dramatically. "You wound me Veiere, truly" Still heavy in the Midvinterian accent. Before he could continue he heard something that made his night. It worked. He still had it, he thought. Either that or he was looking like a free drink dispenser, whichever was fine with him. A life in his face beamed, something not typical of his demeanor since he had returned. As much as he could endure darkness and chaos, as much as he was in fact living in pain due to the spell that kept his force signature inside his body he was not able to beat his love for blue. He smiled and nodded at [member="Mara Rockwell"], he failed in his attempt not to blush a bit. "Twenty five is twenty more than i would have liked" he said as he also raised his glass of swill. That is what he called it, backwater swill... everything was backwater swill when ones lips tasted the mead of Midvinter.

His party, Veiere, The guy holding Darben, Darben and everything else fell into the back of his mind when his eyes met Blue. You see this was the easiest moment to assassinate him, now, he was stupid. "Durin, a pleasure." He said, giving his alias for now but to the nine hells if he wasn't going to give her his real name if he had the chance. As if reading his mind she asked if he thought she was a chiss and if he was honest he still did not really see much of a difference except the glowing red eyes. He chuckled under his breath, the sound rumbling the weapons under his cloak that easily weighed over sixty pounds in just firearms. "Yes I did, I have a friend you reminded me of at a distance but you are far better looking than her"

Maybe he still had it... maybe. He sighed and stood up to Darben hooking his arm under his neck. "Don't worry brother, I will make sure you arrive safley at my quarter, It's a lot closer than yours" He glanced back at Blue and smirked. "Forty five seconds, don't vanish"
[member="Darben Skirae"] @Simone [member="Mara Rockwell"] [member="Veiere Arenais"] [member="Jorus Merrill"]


​

 

[Mara Rockwell]

"Twenty five is twenty more than i would have liked"

Mara raised her glass of pink bubbly liquid at the stranger, inclining her head slightly, "I applaud your restraint, sir. Restraint is a virtue. One I am pretty poor at."

She took a sip, winking from behind her glass. Flirting was a cheap, easy hack to get some good drinks--or pretty much anything in this system. A little wink and smile from her could make a lot of the NPCs and PCs operating in this system. The act of blue-skinned, exotic lady who knew a good time came easy to Mara. Part of that was because it wasn't much of an act.

The man called himself Durin. She committed the name to memory. That would prevent an awkie name mix ups. Hopefully. But there had been a lot of name tonight, and a few drinks. She couldn't fully trust herself to have it down.

"Yes I did, I have a friend you reminded me of at a distance but you are far better looking than her"

"Oh honey, your too sweet," she said, giving a giggle. "But, if we were to be honest, I am better looking than most women. I'm an Aruzan. We don't get out much."

It was true. After the ancient Galactic Empire under Palpatine had done horrible experiments on her race, the pacifistic Aruzan became spread out and barely had contact with those outside of their tight-knit communities. The few that did rarely ever even venture off world. Mara was used to being mistaken for a Chiss, and the next guess was often Pantoran. She couldn't see that either. Pantorans had facial tats. Some people were so ignorant of their system racial stats.

"Forty five seconds, don't vanish"

"Oh I'll be counting," Mara said looking at her watch. She gave Durin a devilish eye, "I do hate waiting."

44.... 43...... 42...... 41.......

[member="Mythos"] I [member="Darben Skirae"] I [member="Simone"] I [member="Veiere Arenais"] ​